Blue Eyes
by coldqueen
Summary: Chloe goes to Oliver's apartment to help with a mission, only to find the resident millionaire has returned. UST


**Title: **Blue Eyes

**Genre: **Television

**Series: **Smallville

**Characters: **Chloe Sullivan, Oliver Queen

**Spoilers: **Umm...anything/everything

**Rating:** PG

**Summary: **A late night at Oliver's apartment leads to startling revelations. UST, all the way.

**Author's Note:** This is very much inspired by the fan!vid _The Not So Secret Life of Chloe_ and the song used therein: "I Don't Know" by Starsailor.

**Beta:** the most AWESOME Paynesgrey, who is, as I said, awesome.

* * *

He looked at her.

She couldn't figure out why.

Chloe Sullivan was not a great beauty, and she was not the genius her friends made her out to be. She had street smarts and reasonably good computer skills, but in the end at best she was above average.

Not that there's anything wrong with that, she often assured herself.

Above average is still something, is still special in its own way.

She's not exotic Lana, or Leggy Lois, but Chloe Sullivan is definitely something.

She was clever and witty, and she's got the kind of smile that'll light up the room if you know to look for it. She's got deep blue eyes that telegraph her every emotion, though most never stop to look and see.

She's got dimples that flash only on the deepest and broadest smile, and hair that shines like gold when she lets it grow long enough to move in the wind.

Yet, again, most don't notice these small details.

Her friends, few that they may be, lived lives best played out in television soap operas. Their own dramas and complications take their attention and usually she's only sought out to help them.

Who helps the helper?

Indeed, who watches Watchtower?

* * *

Chloe smiled to herself as she moved through the apartment, the movement completely out of place with her inner musings. Since she and Jimmy had ended their relationship she'd found herself sinking into melancholy. The only person close enough to her to see past the façade of smiles she put on, Clark Kent, was often too caught up in his own façade to bother piercing hers.

Truthfully, she didn't often have time to indulge herself in the heavy thoughts that snuck up on her. When she wasn't playing reporter/college student by day, she was in Oliver Queen's apartment, playing party organizer to his merry band of miscreants. Chloe may not be as skilled at computers as Cyborg, but when he's in the field someone has to help keep everyone on task. Since Ollie often needed Victor handy for any on the job hacking and security thwarting, more often than not, especially with Jimmy out of the picture, Chloe spent her nights there.

More mornings than she'd ever admit, she woke up to a hard metal desk beneath her and lines from the papers scattered across it indented in her cheek. Her editor never noticed the small stains from drool, at least she hoped not.

Since Mr. Queen had departed Metropolis almost seven months ago, for the final time, Chloe had taken to keeping a spare set of clothes handy in the apartment. For mornings such as she was planning tonight, when she knew she wouldn't have the energy to return to Smallville.

Lois had long ago made the wrong assumption that Chloe was staying with a guy on the nights she didn't come home. Little did her cousin know that Chloe was "staying" with several guys, and it was purely platonic.

Chloe set down her bag and reached for the headset sitting with easy reach of the computer, tucking it into her ear with a practiced ease. A few clicks, and several passwords later, she was connected to the "Watchtower" network (relayed through several Queen Networks and satellites) and ready to work.

"Watchtower online. Status?" she inquired curtly, settling into the very expensive desk chair and inputting commands into the computer.

"Cyborg active." Victor's deep voice resonated into her ear and she smiled as she mentally checked him off her mental list.

"Aquaman active," A.C. added, and Chloe distinctly heard the calls of dolphins down the line as he spoke.

"Hey, _chica_," a younger, lighter voice said with a distinct flirtatious edge. Chloe rolled her eyes and her neck at the same time, delighting in the small cracks of relaxation as they rolled down her body.

Curling into the leather of the chair, Chloe replied amusedly, "Last message unclear, please repeat."

Bart sighed and his resignation was clear as he replied. "Impulse active...and ready for action, _mamacita_..."

Chloe smiled but didn't give into Bart's bait for a response and instead waited for Oliver to signal that he was signed into the network. After several minutes that hadn't happened she reached for her cell phone to try calling him.

She almost jumped out of her skin when a roughly callused hand grabbed hers just before she touched the phone. Chloe spun around in the chair, pulled her hand from the intruder and reached for her stun gun at the same time only to come up empty handed.

Oliver smiled smugly as he held up the missing weapon and shook his finger at her. "I expect my Watchtower to be more observant than this. I've been standing behind you for five minutes."

Chloe's shock faded away, leaving irritation and a secret happiness at seeing him in person again lingering. "Your security is supposed to be the best. If you had doubts as to its quality, you should've told me, so I _would know _to be more alert."

Oliver shook his head softly and his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Don't try turning this around on me. I even left clues that I was here."

Chloe scoffed and turned far enough to reach over and remove her headset from the communication loop between the guys; she didn't want them overhearing the argument that was brewing between the two "head honchos". "Clues like what?" she asked snarkily as she stood and moved to the small kitchen just off the hall, knowing full well she'd need coffee for the long night planned ahead, a night that definitely hadn't included the apartment's real owner popping in for a visit.

Oliver followed her with a small but definite smirk on his face. "Like...my jacket across the very chair you were just sitting in. My Green Arrow costume was hanging in the closet, open closet I add," Oliver emphasized, "and I had music playing in the background."

Chloe sighed and reached for the coffee grounds, realizing belatedly that Oliver had already made a pot. She shrugged and replied softly, "I was preoccupied."

* * *

Surprised at the sudden halt in the natural rise in tension between them, the brewing argument stopped in its tracks, and Oliver leaned on the doorframe and studied Chloe's face. There were blue streaks beneath her eyes, badly hidden with make-up. Her face itself seemed almost too tight, a stiffness to its movements mirrored in her body. Oliver had never seen her as still as she was standing near the counter right then.

"What's wrong?"

Chloe jumped at his sudden question, but didn't turn to him. She answered his question more solidly than her admission of only seconds before had been. "Not a damn thing, Queen." Her hands didn't shake as she reached for the coffee pot.

Oliver was unexpectedly and uncomfortably reminded of Chloe's cousin with that one statement. The pride, and bluntness of it, was all Lois Lane attitude.

It was the first time he'd really made the connection between them two. Sure, intellectually, he'd known they were related, but in reality they were very different.

Lois was tall and brunette, with sparkling blue eyes that always seemed inquisitive, always searching. Her mouth was always running off without her brain, and she was too prideful to ever apologize except in extreme cases.

Chloe, on the other hand, was small and blonde, with eyes that seemed to know too much, eyes that had seen too much. Chloe thought about her words before she spoke, and as a consequence when she did speak people paid attention.

Oddly enough, when she was silent she almost seemed to fade into the scenery, an odd contrast that Oliver had never noticed before.

Truth is, he'd never really noticed her, except in what she could do for him, in what she knew.

Then, much to both of their surprise, Oliver Queen looked at Chloe Sullivan. Really looked, past the classically designed clothes, past the mature and worldly mask, past the self-deprecating humor.

He was surprised by the depth of the like he felt at what he saw.

Chloe sipped her coffee slowly; delight crossing her face as the warmth spread down her throat and into her chest, relaxing just a bit before she turned to Oliver, her eyes sparkling with readiness to verbally spar again.

The intensity of his stare startled her and she quirked an eyebrow at him. "What are you staring at, Queen?"

Her words startled him out his reverie and he shrugged, moving out of her way as she moved towards him and back into the office. "You, Chloe. I was staring at you." He seemed almost as amazed as she did at that fact.

* * *

The mug in her hands shook a little as she set it down. She glared at him, wondering silently what he was playing at. "Well stop; we've got work to do. You're supposed to be in Indonesia on a business conference."

"Cancelled at the last minute," he supplied as he removed his ear set from his equipment case and joined her and his compatriots in the communication link.

As the mission moved forward, Chloe's mind continued to slip back to the kitchenette, to the look he'd been giving her when she'd turned. His eyes had seemed so dark, intense in a way. As her fingers flew across the keyboard and instructions from her mouth, Chloe still couldn't prevent the shiver that slid down her spine when she thought of it.

A shiver that only got worse every time Oliver laid his arm along the back of the chair and leaned close to monitor the situation that played out on the screen before them. Chloe wasn't sure why suddenly she was so _aware_ of Oliver, of Oliver as being a man instead of just the guy who broke her cousin's heart, but she was.

By the time the mission was completed, another of Lex's 33.1 ones bit the dust, and Chloe was a bundle of nerves. Her face didn't show it, and she even forced herself to smile at Oliver as she stood and moved for the door.

"Good mission tonight. I'll see you later," she said nonchalantly as she reached for her purse and headed for the door. She was really too tired to be driving all the way out to the Talon, but with Oliver here she wouldn't really be comfortable assuming she could stay.

"Where are you going?" Oliver asked with an adorable, confused look on his face, his brows lowered and a small wrinkle between them.

Chloe stopped long enough to shrug. "Home."

Oliver set down the papers he'd been perusing and walked towards her quickly. "You're not staying here?"

Chloe tried to play off the sudden tension in the air, smiling charmingly as she cocked her head. "No, why would I?"

Oliver stopped several feet away, but still close enough to have her crossing her arms to hide the sudden clenching of her hands, straining to stop any temptation to touch this too attractive man. "You've been staying here for weeks. Why would you suddenly go all the way to Smallville?"

Chloe's mouth dropped open in surprise. She sputtered for several seconds before replying sharply. "I may have fallen asleep at the desk a couple times when missions have run over, but I've hardly been-"

Oliver interrupted with a grin. "Your toothbrush is in my bathroom."

"Where'd you expect me to keep it? The kitchen?" she muttered with a roll of her eyes, reaching behind her for the elevator button.

"No," Oliver disputed, reaching over and plucking her overnight bag from her hands before dancing backward quickly out of her reach. "You're too tired to drive home. Besides, I've got plenty of space here. I _want_ you to stay here."

Chloe looked at him doubtfully, but walked after him with her hand out for her bag anyways. "Where would I sleep?"

"You can take the master bed," Oliver offered as he continued to walk backwards, this time down the hall, clearly heading for said bedroom.

"That's your room," Chloe protested, already growing weary of fighting with him, and too tired to put up much of a fight anyways.

"You sleep in it more than I do, so I'd say that claim is debatable." Oliver grinned as he said it and tossed her bag through the open doorway and onto the bed.

Chloe bit her lip and shuffled her feet, not daring to look at him as she asked, "And just where will you sleep, Mr. Queen?"

"Aww, didn't know you cared, Watchtower," he replied as he ruffled her hair, moving past her before he said something he might regret.

He'd clearly seen the small flash of vulnerability in her eyes, the uncertainty that hid in the shadows.

"I'm on Japan time; I won't sleep for hours yet. I can take the couch if I need to," Oliver explained as he headed back towards the desk and the day job work that waited. He stopped just out of sight for Chloe, and let his voice echo back to her. "The name is Oliver, by the way, not 'Mr. Queen' to you."

Chloe soft chuckle drifted to his ears and he was glad to hear the note of amusement in her voice as she replied, "Then my name is Chloe, Oliver, not 'Watchtower'."

* * *

Oliver nodded to himself as he sat himself down in the chair, a spot still warm from her body.

_Chloe._

He liked the way it felt on his tongue.

* * *

Review, please.


End file.
